Dreams and Reality
by illunaria
Summary: With Dipper pursuing his academic career at college, Mabel returns to Gravity Falls to start her own life in the fashion business. But little does she know someone is keeping a particularly close watch on her. She only wanted a simple life, but with a dream demon lurking around every corner, her life is anything but simple. Starting an apocalypse is anything but simple.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Gravity Falls.**

* * *

 _The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expe_ _cting different results. But, of course, why stop when it's just so much fun?_

Hot pink oversized sweater, glittery blue headband, ginormous triangle earrings. Mabel Pines was in a good mood. Fresh out of high school, the eldest of the Pines twins was now moving to Gravity Falls permanently – specifically into the room her and Dipper used to share during the summer vacations in the Mystery Shack, that is, until she found herself a place to set up shop. The citizens of Gravity Falls were in some dire need of a new wardrobe, and Mabel believed she was the gal who could remedy that.

Dipper had successfully gotten into the college of his dreams with a full scholarship and was now attending a summer semester, and though Mabel was starting to feel a tad lonesome, she was truly happy for her brother. She knew college wasn't for her, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't tried to get in. A dark cloud hung over her otherwise sunny day. Shaking the unwanted thoughts away, Mabel made her way to the door of the place she called home. Home with mom and dad was fine, but nothing could compare to the many adventures she had here.

"Grunkle Stan! Guess who!" she called out, slamming her fist against the door until a rather disgruntled Stan opened it, clad only in a stained white shirt and boxers. She grinned and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Ah, kid. Did ya have to come at six in the morning?" he groaned, but gladly returned the hug nonetheless.

"And risk dying of heat stroke? No thanks. It's so hot that the AC in my car gave out earlier this week." Mabel heaved a sigh and skipped to her car, popping open the trunk. It wasn't much, but she was glad to call it her baby. Her second baby. "How's Waddles?"

"We can bring your car over to Steve to fix up later. Anyway, the pig's eating everything, as always. Wouldn't mind having some bacon myself."

"Grunkle Stan!" she scolded, shaking her head. Stan went back inside to his usual spot in front of the television, muttering something about the pig eating all his money away. Unable to control herself any longer, Mabel ran inside to spend some quality time with her pig, who'd grown quite large since she last saw him.

Half an hour later, as she lugged one of several suitcases upstairs and into the well-familiarized room, a twinge of pain struck her. She'd never once moved her things in without Dipper doing the same. The two twin beds were still tucked away in opposite corners of the room (Stan didn't want to waste a dime on new furniture) and so where all the knick-knacks that they refused to take home with them. The only thing that they did take home was the journal, which was with Dipper now, as always. Now that Dipper was away at college, half the room felt empty. "Get a hold of yourself, Mabel," she mumbled. "I can give him a call whenever I want." So with that in mind, she pushed the two small beds together to the center of the room, right underneath the triangular window.

The wind blew outside, and she swore she heard a faint laughter bounce off the walls. After casting a nervous look around, she laughed it off. "Just the wind."

* * *

"And so I said, 'Boom! There's your lucky duck, Jerry!'"

Laughter ensued, spitting of soda was had, and Mabel crossed her arms with pride enveloping her face.

"Good one, Hambone!" Soos sputtered, slapping his knee while Wendy gave her a thumbs up.

They had all gathered for dinner at Greasy's Diner in order to catch up with Mabel. It wasn't that strange to her, being the center of attention, but it just wasn't the same without Dipper. Still, they all shared crazy stories and hysterical laughter. By the time they were dozing off, it was almost midnight. Mabel had to admit that Lazy Susan was too good-natured for her own good – except for that one time during Summerween, but Dipper really was to blame. But if Lazy Susan had any sense, she would've kicked them out hours ago.

"Ever get that feeling you're being watched?" Soos asked, alert even when he was half-asleep. "'Cuz I'm getting that feeling now."

Mabel stared out the window, peering through the darkness. "Yeah, I guess so," she yawned, stretching up towards the ceiling. It was true, she did get that feeling sometimes, but her mind was elsewhere at the moment. She was thinking about crawling into bed and never getting out of it, which was surprising, considering how much energy she usually had. So after saying goodbye, she and Stan headed back to the Mystery Shack to catch up on some needed sleep.

"Mm… My pillow is a marshmallow." Mabel smothered her face against the pillow on her now double bed and closed her eyes, awaiting her usual bubbly dreams.

* * *

When her eyes fluttered open, she stared up at the ceiling for a long three minutes in confusion. No dream. She had no dream. Since when did she not have a dream?

"Dipping Sau-" Mabel cut herself off, tears of frustration building up in her eyes. She didn't have a twin to talk to. No one to confide in. No one.

No.

She snatched her cell phone off the nightstand, grinning at how much of a genius she was. After admiring the fuzzy kitten phone case she had gotten recently, Mabel went to her contact list. The smile dropped from her face. Blank? No, that was impossible. She had at least seventy contacts saved. And now they were suddenly deleted?

She put the phone down, eyes darting around in suspicion. "Alright, what kind of joke is this? Who did this?"

No answer.

She grumbled in annoyance and picked an outfit out of a suitcase that she had neglected to unpack. She stripped out of her pajamas and pulled a sweater over her head.

 _Ever get that feeling you're being watched?_

Mabel went rigid and turned her head, staring at the window. Not out the window, but straight at the glass pane that just happened to be the shape of someone she knew. She narrowed her eyes, watching as it began to change color into a familiar yellow hue. Taking in a breath of fear, she quickly pulled her leggings on and dashed for the door.

Only to find it locked.

Maniacal laughter met her ears. The window had now grown an eye and a pair of arms and legs – and a signature bowtie. With her back to the door, Mabel watched as a tiny top hat and cane materialized out of nowhere. The triangle peeled itself from the wall, grinning at the Pines twin with its eye.

"Bill Cipher," she practically growled.

" _Long time no see, Shooting Star. My, how you've blossomed. How long has it been? A month? Two?"_

"Seven years, you stupid, evil triangle." She tried the door again. No luck. "Wait. If you're here then this must be the dreamscape. I'm dreaming!"

" _Finally starting to use that head of yours, huh? Good job. I'm impressed. Want a reward?"_ Bill floated towards her, keeping his eye the same level as hers.

Her lips pressed together tightly. "No thanks."

" _Aw, that's no fun. Let me see,"_ he hummed, turning to glance around the room, his lone eye landing on a poster of the Sev'ral Timez boy band. _"Well, why didn't I think of that in the first place?"_ He laughed and snapped his fingers, his yellow body beginning to glow at an unnatural brightness. Mabel had to shield her eyes to avoid being blinded.

" _So what do you think, Shooting Star?"_

When Mabel pulled her hands away from her eyes, a furious blush crept unto her face. Instead of the flying nacho that Mabel had grown accustomed to in the past, the Bill that stood before her had taken on a human body that was undeniably the most attractive thing she had ever laid eyes on. With blond hair that was swept to the side in a messy sort of way that actually fit his personality, a black eyepatch covering his right eye, black dress pants, and a long yellow tailcoat with lining that was threaded with the universe itself, all complete with his bowtie and hat, Bill could now make any woman turn every shade of red and any man green with envy. To put it bluntly, the dream demon was dashing.

"I- I think…" She shook her head, trying to make the unwanted blush leave her alone for eternity. "Why are you here?"

Bill hummed, tapping gloved fingers against the top of his cane. _"If I told you, it'd ruin the surprise."_

She definitely didn't like the sound of that. "Tell me now!"

He smirked, and now Mabel got a full view of his sharp teeth. _"The time has finally come, Shooting Star. You and Pine Tree are going to get a show. That is, if Pine Tree ever comes."_

"Dipper and I will always be here to take you down!"

She blinked, and Bill was looming over her, his eye staring down into hers. _"Do you think Pine Tree cares about you? Let me tell you. He's made countless friends in that grand college he left you for. Who's to say he'll care enough to come to your rescue?"_

A shaky breath left her lips, fear slowly creeping into her. "I know Dipper… He'd never leave me."

" _But he already has."_

Mabel shot up in bed, her chest heaving like it was only moments ago in the dream. A nightmare. Maybe it was only a nightmare. But as she stood and began to get ready for the day, she knew no ordinary nightmare could feel so real.


	2. Chapter 2

_The dream is real – Bill_

Further down, her wrist read: _Look what I did to your other hand._

She slowly turned her eyes to her left hand.

 _Look! A turkey!_ Read her palm, the outline of a turkey covering her entire hand.

Mabel's eye twitched in annoyance as she washed the inked words off the palm of her hand. Of course she had been trying to convince herself that it was only a dream – no, a nightmare, when she had spotted the writing on her skin. If it had been drawn by anyone else, Mabel would have laughed until her sides hurt. But this was coming from the same psychopath who got a kick out of pulling deer teeth and possessing her brother to hurt himself. "Stupid jerk…" she grumbled as she stepped out of the bathroom and made her way into the kitchen.

Some chocolate chip pancakes and Mabel Juice should brighten up her day.

Only a few minutes later, Mabel was hitting her head against the surface of the table. The only thing the pancakes and juice had successfully done was give her a stomach ache.

"Whoa, kiddo! What happened to you?!"

Mabel raised her head, looking at Stan with tired eyes. He was dressed to give tours, so she must have slept in – a habit that she needed to get out of if she wanted to open a clothing store.

"Bag check on aisle four! Seriously, did you sleep at all last night?"

Straightening up and rubbing her eyes, Mabel thought about telling Stan about her encounter with Bill. Bill hadn't been any trouble the last seven years, so maybe this one time meant nothing? Or it meant something horribly bad. He said that she and Dipper were going to get a show. What kind of show?

She stared past her great uncle, her eyes landing on one of the many carpets in the house that depicted Bill Cipher himself in his triangle form. Why did they still have those? Now that she stared closer, she noticed the eye change into a deep red color. "U- Uh, yeah, Grunkle Stan! I slept last night. Just…fine…"

Stan narrowed his eyes suspiciously before shrugging and grabbing a bag of chips from the counter.

Mabel glanced away from the carpet once it returned to normal. It was probably a warning. A warning that if she told anyone, Bill would… She shuddered and shook the thought away. She needed to get her mind off of the demon.

As if on cue, Waddles waddled into the kitchen, oinking the day away. If pancakes and Mabel Juice couldn't do the trick, the one thing she needed was her best friend. "Come here, Waddles!"

* * *

"And so William Henry Harrison became the ninth president of the United States."

Dipper hid a knowing smile behind his American History textbook. Of course they forgot to mention Quentin Trembley, the 8 ½th president, and the Depantsipation Proclamation. So he wouldn't be expecting a question about him on the exam. He tapped his pen thoughtfully.

College life was great for Dipper. His fellow students shared the same interests as him, there was never any obnoxious screeching in his ears, and he had the time to research the paranormal. This was the life.

Except he was missing one thing. Mabel. A slight frown crossed his face, his writing hand stopping in his notes. It really was like living without his other half. As much as he enjoyed the quiet, he also felt like he needed a little noise around him.

"Remember to go online for the weekly quiz. Other than that, have a nice weekend!" the professor dismissed, waving off the class of twelve students of the large hall. Not many people came to school during the summer, and a part of Dipper was wishing he had stayed with Mabel in Gravity Falls until school started up in the fall. With a sigh, he stood and put his cap on before leaving the building to head for the library. Might as well get that quiz out of the way.

High above him, a figure lounged atop the rooftop, unaffected by the blazing sun. _"Poor Pine Tree,"_ Bill chuckled, grinning down at the boy walking away. _"So alone. So… in his place."_ He eyed the book that Dipper clutched so desperately too every second of every day. The demon's grin morphed into a scowl. Bill knew that the boy even slept with that thing, making it excruciatingly difficult for him to get his hands on.

" _Soon, puppet."_

Dipper stiffened and stopped mid-stride. With a feeling of sudden dread, he whipped his head around, staring straight at the rooftop – only to find it empty. He could have sworn he was being watched, but it may have been paranoia as always. Despite him brushing it off as just that, he still did a quick sweep of the area before finally turning and continuing on his way. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 _From: Mabel – Yo yo, bro bro! What is the up todazzle? I'm bringing the swag up to GF, u dig? These peeps need a wardrobe chnge! WUT WUT!_

Dipper stared down at the text message, trying to process and decipher what Mabel was trying to say. Unable to keep the smile off his face, he replied.

 _Just got out of history class and heading to the library now. Call you later, okay?_

 _PS. You have to stop talking like that._

* * *

Mabel tapped her fingers on the cash register, anxiously awaiting her cell phone to go off. Wendy had approached her earlier, asking if she could take over her shift since she was in dire need of a nap. So of course, Mabel gave in and said yes. "Maybe I'm the one who's too good-natured for my own good," she mumbled to herself, watching as Lazy Susan try to pick the perfect jar of fake eyeballs. What did she need those for anyway? She turned her attention away and surveyed the tourists browsing through the merchandise of the gift shop, her boredom growing by the second.

She had texted Dipper at ten in the morning, and it was almost five now. What was taking him?

Bill's words from last night drifted into her head. _Do you think Pine Tree cares about you?_ Of course Dipper cares. He's never not cared. _Countless friends… college he left you for…_ Mabel began chewing on her lip nervously, tears welling in her eyes. It wasn't true. It wasn't.

"Excuse me? Could you ring me up?"

Blinking away the sudden tears, Mabel nodded and continued to work the register until it was closing time. She turned the sign hanging on the door from open to closed and flipped the lights off, failing to notice her world slowly turn to monochrome in the darkness. With an obnoxiously loud yawn, her arms stretching high above her head, she turned and walked straight into a firm pillow. Before she was able to process anything, her wrists were caught and she was slammed against the door. Her head slammed into a glass panel.

Now dizzy with pain, Mabel raised her eyes to glare at the one-eyed demon, who had effectively pinned her to the door, leaving little room between their bodies. So close that she could feel his cool breath against her skin, which left the scent of wine and a hint of something coppery. Yes, definitely too close.

A sharp-tooth smirk played across his face.

"What do you want, Cipher?" she spat, failing to keep the heat from her face.

 _"Aw, Shooting Star, I just couldn't wait till your dreams."_

"How are you here? This is real life."

 _"Wrooong,"_ he said in a sing-song voice. _"Welcome to the mindscape, kiddo. Another dimension that yours truly is able to move through freely."_

Mabel tried to pull herself free, but it only resulted in him tightening his hold to a vice-like grip. She winced, her knees trembling. She hated how weak she felt.

Bill laughed, amusement twinkling in his one eye. _"I like this position."_

She shuddered. "You're sick."

 _"I'm a being of pure energy, I can't get si- Oh. OH. That kind of sick."_

"What do you want from me?"

Bill playfully tilted his head, examining her from head to toe. _"Let's start with an eternity of servitude. We can work out the details later."_

"No wa-eeep!" she squealed when he pressed his body flush against hers, his chin resting on the top of her head.

 _"In time, Shooting Star,"_ he whispered into her hair, sending a wave of shivers down her spine. _"You'll be eating out of the palm of my hand."_ He released a wrist, letting it fall limp at her side, tingling as blood rushed back into the length of it. With his now free hand, he began to stroke her long, brown hair.

His mistake.

She slammed her fist into his side, sending him stumbling backwards in a fit of insane giggles. She shuddered, remembering Dipper telling her how Bill seemingly enjoyed pain – at least, while he was possessing his body. But she also shuddered because of his touch. The feeling of his tall body pressed against hers, his fingers sliding through her hair… Mabel could feel the ghost of those touches and how soft his hands were.

Bill had finally ceased his inane laughter. His yellow eye bore into her hazel ones.

She felt utterly vulnerable.

Until Stan opened the door. "Mabel! What are you doing standing in the dark?"

Mabel's eyes shot to him, then back to where Bill was standing, only to realize that he was gone. She was back in her world.

"Sorry, Grunkle… Kinda zoned out there…" She brushed herself off, lingering on her wrists where his hands had been. She scowled and walked past Stan, heading upstairs to go shower away her worries. Her actions left Stan standing in the midst of confusion, before he shrugged and went to go check on the day's load of cash.

Mabel ripped her fingers through her hair, scrubbing furiously. Her heart raced, his touch still lingering on her skin, her body trembling in want. "No!" she hissed at herself through her teeth, groaning when soap suds got in her eyes. Her wrists were raw from trying to get the feelings of his hands away. What scared her most was that part of her enjoyed it. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she whimpered, tears falling to the floor before she collapsed on her knees with them. She was alone with only a madman to bend her at his will. Alone. "Where are you, Dipper?"

When she gained the strength to pull herself out of the shower, she noticed with a heavy heart the foggy mirror and the words scrawled across it.

 _You know how to give a show – Bill_


	3. Chapter 3

"Good news! Great news! Fantastic news!" Mabel skidded to a stop right in front of her Great Uncle Stan's lazy chair, blocking his view of another Duck-Tective rerun. She was practically bouncing off the walls with glee. "Guess who's getting her own shoooop?"

"Huh? What's that?"

She pouted and crossed her arms. "Come on, Grunkle Stan. Show a bit of enthusiasm for your favorite niece?"

Stan pulled out one of Mabel's sweaters from underneath the cushion of his chair. "I'm glad for ya, kid. Now I won't be drowning in girly clothes."

Snatching the perfectly knitted sweater from him, she sent him an ugly glare before snorting and sitting on the floor beside him. "It's right off of Main Street. I'm so excited!"

"Main Street? Must have cost you a fortune."

"Just an arm and a leg! There's also an upstairs that I can call my own little penthouse. I'll be out of your hair before you can say 'Duck-Tective!' But you know, I'll still come here, like, every day."

Stan grunted in response, but she knew that meant he cared.

It had been weeks since her last encounter with Bill. Ever since he had peeped on her in the shower, he was apparently hiding from her evident wrath. She was happy that he wasn't bothering her. She even started to wonder if she had ever seen him at all, or if it was all part of her wild imagination. She was hoping for the latter.

Then on the other hand, it had been weeks since she had talked to Dipper. He didn't answer her calls, didn't reply to her text messages, and ignored her emails. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth. That or he didn't want to talk to her. She didn't hope for either. She hoped it was all some happy misunderstanding that would be solved in no time.

She looked up at Stan. He knew what she was going through. He and Ford had lost all connections when Ford went to pursue a career in academics. And now Ford was always in the basement of the Shack, working on saving the world or something like that. Mabel wondered if her and Dipper would be reunited as epic as her great uncles were. She shooed the thought away before she could think more on it. There was no way she and Dipper were drifting apart. This was just a little blip, right?

She hoped so.

Now it was time to set up shop.

It took her a couple days to get everything in order, but with the help of her friend Candy Chiu, she managed to open the doors of Shooting Stars before the week was up. Mabel had considered changing the name due to a certain someone dubbing it her nickname, but she wasn't going to let him ruin her dreams. She had come up with the name when she was eleven, and nothing was going to change her mind.

Shooting Stars' interior was as fun and bubbly as the owner herself. And it all stayed with the theme of its name; with dark blue walls with stars of white and gold painted delicately, hardwood floors with strips of white tape leading all across the store before ending with an 'x' at the checkout counter, and a few pieces of modern furniture scattered across the store.

"Oh, Mabel, I am so jealous of you. You have your own clothing store, Grenda has her own Austrian fiancé, and what do I have? I have to look forward to four years at college and paying off student loans," Candy sighed, a forlorn expression saddening her pretty face.

Mabel tsked and tapped her foot as she hung sweaters on racks, which filled the room with bright colors that would hurt any vampire's eyes. "You get to look forward to exploring the world with that awesome photography skill of yours."

Her words immediately brought a smile to Candy's face. "You think so?"

"I know so."

Mabel slapped a 'please' sticker on her very own cash register and swelled with pride. "Thanks so much for helping out, Candy."

"What are friends for? Thank you for hiring me. My parents have been bugging me to get a summer job. They do not appreciate the art of photography," she murmured, mumbling something in Korean that Mabel could only guess was a curse word.

With a giggle, Mabel walked over to the window, peering out over the sign that said 'GRAND OPENING! BEDAZZLE YOUR TASTE IN FASHION!'. She had a way with words. And one by one, window shoppers meandered in, most in their tween and teen years. Candy took over the cash register as Mabel helped find whatever her customers were looking for. For the first time in a long time, Mabel was happy.

She almost didn't want to close when it was time to, but her stomach was grumbling and her eyes were growing heavier by the minute. So she said goodnight to Candy, waving her off as she left. Mabel locked the front and back doors and turned off all the lights before heading upstairs. It was just as trendy as it was downstairs, except for the sleeping pig in the cozy armchair of the living room. But to Mabel, he only added to the trendiness.

After a frozen meal and a brisk shower, she headed to bed. Moving some stuffed animals out of the way, Mabel fell into a dream.

* * *

 _It was cold._

 _Her hair was clinging to her back as if she had freshly showered._

 _She breathed into the fresh air, watching her smoky breath ascend to the night sky._

 _It was freezing._

 _Snow began to fall in swirls around her._

 _She could see the headlights of a car in the distance._

 _Her blood was ice._

 _A screech._

 _A car door._

" _Ma'am, are you alright?! Did I hit you?!"_

 _A man._

 _He must be chilly with shorts on._

 _She shook her head._

 _Her hand reached out to the man._

 _She felt inhuman._

 _Quick as lightning, her hand shot forward and grasped his throat._

 _He was warm._

 _Fear laced his eyes._

 _He did nothing when she put her hand over his face._

 _And slammed his head against the window of his car._

 _Again._

 _And again._

 _And again. And again. And again._

 _His blood was fire._

 _It stopped snowing._

 _It was hot._

Mabel bolted up in bed, her breath coming out in short pants. She trembled, feeling as if her body had just ran through a marathon without her. Her arm hurt. Mabel felt her heart skip a beat.

She lifted her head and met her reflection.

And she cried.

A bloody 'x' had been drawn over her right eye.

* * *

"Breaking news! Gravity Falls' citizen Jared Clyde, age 43, was found dead this morning at the intersection of Jeannie Street and Maple Boulevard. Evidence shows his death was caused by violent trauma to the head. No fingerprints were found at the crime scene, but it is an assumed murder…"

The television soon became static in the background to Mabel's ears. She clutched her steaming coffee mug, the burning hot feeling oddly comforting. Her bloodshot eyes were accompanied by tear stains that trailed down her cheeks, proving that she had barely slept at all. Instead she had gone out into the night and brutally murdered an innocent.

Laughter rung in her head.

 _"I have to hand it to you, Shooting Star. I didn't think you had it in you. It takes a lot to kill someone you don't even know."_ Mabel watched as a splotch of floor turned ink black and the dream demon materialize from it. A wicked smirk split his face in two. _"By the way, really digging the name of the little store downstairs."_

"You did this to me…" she breathed, her sunken eyes barely managing to glare at Bill. "You made me do it."

 _"Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a tiny part in it. But really, it was mostly you. All I needed to give you was a little push."_ He shoved his cane against her chest, right over her beating heart. But that didn't scare her. He couldn't hurt her body while she was in the mindscape. What scared her were his words.

He tilted his head, his mad grin turning into a pout. _"Don't tell me you're broken already. The fun's just getting started."_ He flicked his cane over to the left, pointing it straight at Waddles, who had frozen in time in the faded world.

"Don't… Don't you dare touch Waddles!" Mabel shouted, standing from her seat and throwing her mug of still-steaming coffee at Bill's face. But before it could hit her target, he snapped his fingers, turning the mug and its contents into sand.

 _"I'm not_ touching _your porkchop."_ A flick of his wrist and the pig was suspended in the air.

"P-Please," she cried, falling on her knees before him. Fresh tears began pouring over her cheeks and falling to the floor at his feet. "He's my best friend…"

 _"Hm… Would you do anything for this piece of meat?"_

"I- I-" she started hesitantly, eyes darting around the room. Her desperate gaze landed on a framed photo of her and Waddles when she first won him in the fair. She took a deep breath. "Yes."

Bill leaned forward on his cane until his head was level with hers, his one yellow eye narrowing. _"Kiss me."_

Her pale face gained a twinge of pink.

 _"You humans seem to enjoy doing it, and I was starting to feel left out. Either that or…"_ He demonstrated by turning his cane to Waddles.

"I'll do it!" she gasped, hands slapping to his cheeks before pulling him closer. His lips only centimeters away, Mabel thought back to all the boys she had kissed, which admittedly wasn't many. Her first kiss was Mermando, and from there she dated a guitar player her freshman year of high school, who ended up being a real jerk. Dipper had convinced her to break it off before things got out of hand. And after that, she dated this guy who had a real sense of humor, but unfortunately had commitment issues. And now she was about to kiss a demon.

 _"You know I can read your mind, Shooting St-"_

Mabel silenced him with a kiss.

His lips were surprisingly soft. So she closed her eyes and kissed him tenderly, imagining she was kissing anyone but him.

 _You're right. You could be kissing Gideon Gleeful,_ he spoke in her mind.

She gasped and pulled away, wanting to glare at him, but he brought her back into the kiss. Dominating it. Making it his. Her knees wobbled, body melting against his. Every nerve in her body was betraying her. Every nerve in her body wanted more.

His tongue swiped against her lips, and she willingly parted them for him. He grasped her chin and tilted her head, further deepening the kiss. It was fervid, it was hot, it was wet.

The tears kept coming, so Bill broke the kiss and peppered kisses over her face before licking away the tears. Mabel shuddered.

"I'm a murderer," she sobbed, diverting her eyes.

 _"And you'll kill more,"_ his hiss vibrated against every fiber in her being.

Then her world returned to color.

At least she had saved Waddles.


	4. Chapter 4

Blood cascaded down her arms in waves, leaving Mabel feeling sticky and sickly. She was doing this; not only for Waddles, but for Dipper, Stan, Ford, Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, her parents, and countless others she loved dearly, even if she didn't remember her actions come morning. Bill would not hesitate to harm anything that he considered an enemy, and Mabel was no exception.

This was her ninth victim.

Of course, now she was only a bloody pile of skin and bone. Still in a dreamlike state, Mabel stood from the floor and walked through the now empty household. She turned and stared into the mirror, her hand moving up slowly and crossing two thick lines over her eye. The smirk written on her face was haunting, and so was the yellow sheer that her eyes held, but that face would soon be full of horror once she awoke from her trance.

And her day was only beginning.

Her eyes fluttered open, wakened by the ticklish feeling of a feather being stroked against her cheek. Still coated with blood, Mabel groaned and opened her eyes, amnesia hanging over her head like a cloud. It was more of a dream than amnesia, to be honest. She never completely forgot her actions, but it held the same vagueness of a dream, or a vivid nightmare.

Speaking of nightmares, there was one currently curled up beside her, dusting a feather over her face with a lazy expression. _"Good morning, my Shooting Star. Sleep well?"_ Sandy blond hair fell over the twinkling eye that was filled to the brim with utter amusement. She noticed out of the corner of her eye the random feathers lying about and the torn open pillow that lay precariously on the floor, but she was too tired and covered in blood to care. Dropping the feather on her sticky face, Bill's hand made its way to her matted brown hair.

Mabel slapped his hand away before he could humiliate her further and stood, making her way into the bathroom and locking the door in hopes that he wouldn't follow her. And, thankfully, he didn't. So she washed away the blood for the ninth morning in a row.

With Bill here, breakfast wouldn't bring her any comfort.

" _We haven't talked about the kiiiiiiiiss."_

Mabel shot a glare towards the demon currently lounging in the air all nonchalant, taking a sip of her famous juice out of a silly straw. _"Yeeesh, this drink really packs a punch! No wonder you're always so hyped up. It really is a thing of nightmares."_ He downed it in another gulp before throwing the glass off to the side. Mabel winced when it hit the floor and shattered into thousands of pieces. _"I like it! How about another?"_

"How are you able to drink in the mindscape? Or ruin my pillows? Or my glasses?" she spoke for the first time since she was awoken from her nightmares. The questions bounced off the walls of her head, since it should be impossible for the demon to do anything physical in the world.

Bill paused for a second, his eyebrows furrowing as if in deep thought. Then his face lit up. _"Things are changing, so you better get used to it. Now about the kiss."_

"That was a one-time thing. Don't expect another one," she snapped, shrugging on a sweater over her undershirt. "Now go away. I need to open shop."

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of red in his eye before his lip jutted out in a childish pout. _"Have places to be and deals to make anyway,"_ he sighed with a snap of his fingers. In an instant, he was gone. And so Mabel went on with her day.

As she rung up a few sweaters and leggings for a customer, Mabel wondered if her life would ever be the same again. She wondered if she'd ever get over the fact that she was a murderer, and according to Bill Cipher, a guilty murderer at that.

She wondered if Dipper was ever going to return her calls.

"Mabel? Mabel Pines?"

Her head shot up at the familiar voice. Pin straight blonde hair, perfect complexion, blue eyes perfectly accented with just the right amount of eye makeup. Pacifica Northwest hadn't changed a day Mabel first met her, except for the smile that now completed her look. And the fact that she aged. Mabel also delighted in the knowledge that she and Dipper secretly called each other every now and then in the middle of the night. Ah, the joys of forbidden love.

"Pacifica? Um, hi, how are you? Did you accidentally wander in here? Didn't think sweaters were your cup of tea."

The blonde shuffled on her feet nervously, out of character for her usual persona. She cleared her throat, a nervous expression plaguing her face. "No, I- I meant to come sooner. It's just… I was just on the phone with Dipper, and he sounded scared, disturbed… he told me that you hadn't been talking to him and-"

"Wait, what?" Mabel cut her off, staring at her with a mixture of confusion and shock.

"You hadn't been answering his calls… Anyway, that's not the problem! I heard shouting on the other line- like- like the police. I think he's been arrested, Mabel!"

Mabel's jaw had long since dropped. It was as if the wool had been pulled from her eyes. She should have known her brother wouldn't have just stopped talking to her on a whim. Second, Dipper had somehow managed to get arrested when she-

Oh, no.

– when she was the one doing the murdering…

Dipper was too quick to make deals with demons. And all fingers pointed to a certain one-eyed demon. Quick to respond, she rushed everyone out of the store, including Pacifica, and ran upstairs. Chest heaving with anxiety and rage, she shouted, "BILL CIPHER!"

There might have been the inkling of a soft laughter, but it was gone too quickly and Mabel had lost her patience. Now in full panic, she fumbled with the remote and flipped the television on to the news channel. The headlines stared right in her horrified face.

 **COLLEGE STUDENT "DIPPER" PINES CONFESSES TO RECENT GRAVITY FALLS SERIAL MURDERS**

"No… No, no, no, NO!"

Denial rung in her voice, angered shouts gradually turning into helpless sobs. If Bill was watching, there was no doubt he was thriving in every second of her searing pain. A fit of rage passed through her, and after flinging the remote and successfully putting an ugly dent in the television screen, she collapsed to her knees and wished with all her heart that it was all a nightmare.

Perhaps all she needed was a wish.

It was as if everything around her melted away. No longer was she in the living room of what she now called home, but instead, the familiar surroundings of what she used to call home came in her vision. She stood in the hall, right in the middle of two rooms. To her right, her door stood ajar, pink walls and smiling posters blinding her. To her left was Dipper's room, all decked out in rustic colors and furniture. And there was Dipper, packing up an old-timey trunk to bring to college. It was all too familiar.

"Dip?"

Dipper turned his head, all glee disappearing from his face when he saw her. Déjà vu enveloped her head, leaving her feeling dazed and confused. She knew the conversation that followed. She knew that she was going to break down in tears with her brother holding her and telling her he's only a phone call away. Her thoughts were a scrambled mess. Was this real? Or had she been living a nightmare for a month of her life? Or had some greater being granted her that wish? If she was brought back to this very moment in time, then there had to be something she could do to divert from the path that lay ahead.

"Hey, Mabel. I- You want to help me pack? I'm not leaving till tomorrow so-"

None of her previous thoughts mattered now. All that mattered was that Dipper was _here_ and not being sent to jail; she was _here_ and not murdering the innocent. With a small cry of joy, Mabel lunged herself forward, tackling her twin to the floor with a thud.

"O- Ow, hey!"

"Just shut up, you dummy," she sighed, squeezing him so hard, so desperately, because she couldn't risk letting go and waking from this wondrous, bordering torturous, dream. His arms wrapped around her in return. He was nearly a head taller than her, much to her digression, so it was easy for him to rest his chin on the crown of her head.

"I want to go to school with you," Mabel murmured into his shirt after what seemed like minutes went by. "I can bring up my ACT score. I can do it. I- I know I can."

"But you said you wanted to open shop in Gravity Falls. Do you really want to endure class upon class just to stay with me?"

"Yes!" Mabel cried, pulling back to meet his eyes. "You don't understand. If I go there, I'll…" She stared deep into Dipper's wide, curious eyes. They were often curious, eager to learn something that was unknown to him, just ripe for him to pick knowledge from. But the curiosity in his eyes now was… otherworldly. Unease dropped into the pit of her stomach like an anchor as she watched his pupils dilated until they became mere slits, the whites of his eyes turning a pale yellow. He tilted his head, a mad smirk coming over his face.

" _You really should learn to tell the difference between dreams and reality."_

Mabel screamed and whipped her arm in his direction, wincing herself when her nails dug under the soft skin of his cheek. But still, he didn't let go. If anything, his hold only tightened around the small of her back, pulling her flush against his – Bipper's body.

So caught up in struggling, Mabel failed to notice at first how the illusion of her old home vanished, and she was still in a living nightmare. A squeal sounded in her ear, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched Waddles dive under the table, shaking in terror.

" _Hey, sister, you keep struggling like that and you'll be a-confusing this Pine Tree's flushing body,"_ he laughed wickedly in her ear, not at all minding the stream of blood seeping from his cheek. The girl splayed across his lap only grew nauseous as he drew a thumb over the crimson liquid and brought it to his lips. His tongue darted out and gave a tentative lick before sticking the entire digit in his mouth. _"Mmm… I'm only kidding. You know Pine Tree is in the big house by now."_ As he mumbled around his thumb, the image of Dipper faded before her eyes, replaced by the blond-haired man she had come to despise.

She found it easier punching this form square in the jaw. And although he enjoyed pain, he allowed her freedom to scramble away from the confides of his lap, scooting her butt across the floor until her back made contact with the wall, a good ten feet away from him. "He made a deal with you, didn't he?" she heaved, trying to catch her breath.

Even as he rubbed his jaw, Bill still had the nerve to cast a smug grin in her direction. _"After I revealed how you've been going on a killing spree? Maybe."_

"What exactly was the deal?"

" _In exchange for him taking the blame, no harm would come to you."_ The demon floated off the ground, no doubt full of hot air, Mabel thought to herself with a scowl. She watched him examine his gloved fingers, a bored expression coming over his face, but she knew how he must be thriving in the moment. The corners of his lips were just slightly overturned, giving away everything. Those damn kissable lips. As sudden as the thought passed through her head, it was gone, leaving only a twist in her stomach and vexation in its wake. Though the object of her thoughts only seemed to twitch in amusement as he apparently read her mind.

In turn, Mabel clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails cutting deep into her skin. But the pain only fueled her anger. "Set him free," she practically growled.

He spared her a glance before returning his gaze to his hand. _"Sorry, toots, but a deal is a deal. Unless…"_

She didn't need to guess what he had in mind. "What do you want in return?"

" _Just,"_ one sibilant hiss and his index finger shot into the air, _"one more kill."_

It was wrong, and she knew it. Killing seemingly random strangers, people she who begged for dear life as she did the bidding of the evil entity. She awoke every morning with their blood on her hands, but at the same time, her conscious was clear. No matter how guilty she felt, the fact of the matter was that she had no control over what her body chose to do come nightfall. No amount of coffee or Mabel Juice could keep her from nightmares.

Bill had no reason to make a deal with her.

Still, if this would be the last time her body disobeyed her, she would take it in exchange for her brother's freedom. Begrudgingly, she got to her feet and held out her hand. "Deal."

The façade of boredom melted from his face, replaced by the sharp-toothed smirk that sent delicious shivers down her spine. He took his leather-encased fingertip and bit down, careful not to graze the flesh beneath, and drew his hand back, stripping the glove from his hand. Mabel's breath hitched as she saw how sharp his nails were – almost like claws. She was convinced that they were razor-edged, ready to slice her hand open upon immediate contact.

But as she took it, no pain engulfed her, only a blue flame and the feeling of dread itching her skin.

* * *

"Yeah, I know. ….. She isn't answering her phone? ... I'll check to see how she's doing as soon as I can. ….. Okay. Okay, bye."

Stan slammed the phone into the receiver and covered his face with a low groan. If anyone had told him his great nephew was going to be a serial killer a week ago, he wouldn't believe them. And he still didn't. First off, it didn't make a lick of logical sense. There was no way Dipper could be in class in California during the day and killing people in Gravity Falls at night. Second, he knew Dipper and Dipper would never hurt a fly even if he tried to. He'd seen him with a flyswatter before.

The sound of the vending machine opening caught his attention, and Ford was standing on the other side of it, a horrified expression making him age twenty years. All that was missing was a headstone.

"I take it you've heard the news?" Stan grumbled.

"News? What news? That another person died last night? I know. Look, Stanley, I usually don't divulge in my recent studies, but this is serious. Life-threatening serious." Now Stan caught sight of the piece of parchment paper that Ford was clutching, crinkling the page at its center. His twin marched over to him, shoulders raised and taut, and slapped the paper down on the countertop.

Stan bore into the image drawn on the page warily before looking back at Ford in confusion. "This is a map of the town."

"Yes, and I have pin-pointed and connected every death that has occurred so far. Nine points, all symmetrical to one another. There is one missing right here," he said, pointing directly to the graveyard. "See it? If all are connected in the right order, they create a pentagram."

"So what you're saying is…"

"End times are coming, unless we stop it."


	5. Chapter 5

_Once upon a time, there was nothing. Not even time._

 _Once upon a place, there was nothing. Not even place._

 _Once upon a life, there was nothing. Not even life._

 _All in existence was yet to come._

 _Then, a spark._

 _An eye opened._

 _And it saw everything._

* * *

As Mabel retired to bed for the night, anxiety ate away at her stomach. On her pink coverlet lay a red package just ripe for unboxing. She didn't have to guess who it was from. She could only guess what was in it. A dismembered arm, a knife to end her suffering with, a collection of eyes that had been wretched from the sockets – all of these were possibilities. What she hadn't expected was a red nightie and a note attached that read: _Wear this in your dreams tonight._

In a way, it was worse. It was pure lace, only a sliver of material, which ended just above mid-thigh. It left so little to the imagination, hugging her curves in all the right places. If there was any dignity left inside her, all of it was ripped away, leaving only shame in its wake. Tears hung on her bottom eyelashes, ready to fall at any given time. And as she closed her eyes, they did fall.

Yellow eyes opened.

 _"Now this is more like it!"_ This voice was not hers. It was wrong, wrong! But still, a cackle escaped her parted lips as she retched herself from the comfort of her bed. She looked herself up and down in the mirror, trailing her hands over her nearly exposed breasts and down her body, breath hitching as they skimmed her bare skin. _"Humans are so sensitive."_

Stepping with her left foot, Mabel- no, Mabill headed out the door, kicking aside the pig that lied in her way. A distressed squeal met her ears and she enjoyed it, but not as much as she enjoyed the helpless screams of humans. Nothing else was ever quite up to par for her liking. Even as the human soul trapped inside the feminine body screamed, Mabill made her way outside and cast her gaze to the sky, watching the blood moon shine dully overhead. Excitement pounded through her veins as her feet carrying her to the west. Once the archway leading into the cemetery came into sight, Mabill ran her hand over the words 'El Diablo' on the burgundy car parked so precariously on the side of the road.

 _"Just as I foresaw…"_

* * *

"Great idea, Poindexter. Let's go to the graveyard to die! I'm not due here for at least another five years," Stan grumbled, crossing his arms while he cast around suspicious glances to and fro. "And of course it had to be foggy!"

"Quiet, Stanley." Ford had enough of his brother's whining, even if there was some sense to it. "With Fiddleford's invention, we'll see them coming from a mile away."

"Yee-ow, yes, siree! There ain't nothing that can get past my catch-em-in-the-act machine. Those possums ain't comin' back to my dump!" Fiddleford Hadron, more widely known as 'Old Man' McGucket, exclaimed and slapped his knee with a chortle. "Though possums are a tad different than murderers, I reckon…" he trailed off, unsure.

Stan glared off into the fog, not keen on having brought McGucket along for the ride. But since he was the only one insane enough to know how to work the device he currently held in his hands, they had to be blessed with his company. "So what? We catch the murderer? What if we get murdered ourselves?"

"Stanley, please, you have to stop jumping to conclusions. As long as this person hasn't made a deal with Bill Cipher, I should be able to exorcise the demon from him... or her…" he trailed off, uncertain.

"And what does Dipper have to do with this?"

Ford became silent for a moment, and the only sound that could be heard for miles around was the tapping of McGucket's antsy foot. With a sigh, the six-fingered twin said, "I know you don't want to see it, but the murders only started after Mabel came back into town and-"

"What? What are you saying? Mabel? Mabel?! No. No! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! No way in hell could Mabel find it in her to kill-"

"Stanley, will you listen to me for once in your li-"

"- anyone or anything with a damn pulse!"

" –fe?! Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall!"

"Y'all need to stop your bickering! Someone's a-coming!" McGucket exclaimed, shaking his tracking device between them heedlessly. He ducked down behind an withered gravestone and looked around with wild eyes. Stan and Ford followed suit, casting distressing looks at one another.

A minute passed before they heard leaves crunching under slow, but sure steps.

 _"I know you're heeere!"_ Mabill called out in a sing-song voice, sending shivers down their spines. _"I know everything. Come on out, Sixer, Stanley, aaaaaand Hadron, eh? I remember you. Came through a portal a long time ago and caught me in a rather compromising position. We should reintroduce ourselves. A do-over!"_ The footsteps stopped only a mere couple of feet away from their hiding spots.

Ford let out a breath before standing and facing Mabill. His heart wrenched at the sight of his niece, standing there with her head tilted to the side and a demonic smile shadowing the rest of her face. Except for the eyes, of course. The dementia found in those eyes was enough to strike anyone frozen with fear, even the bravest of souls. And he had to keep all eyes on her face, since she was only wearing a revealing nightie and nothing else. A voice unlike Mabel's filled his ears with dread, _"Hiya, Sixers! Missed you these past seven years. I'm pretty good at the silent game, aren't I?"_

"Cipher, I won't allow you to finish this ritual! You'll have to go through me."

Mabill hummed, _"Hmm… Tempting, but I need you alive. And before you ask, I have my reasons."_

Stan could take no more of this as he sprung up from behind and stepped beside Ford. "Why are you doing this?! Get out of Mabel's body!"

 _"But I don't want out,"_ the demon purred, double meaning underlying her words.

A rattling sound could be heard, and before the dream demon knew it, rosary beads were being shoved in her face. Ford began chanting in Latin, pouring from his mouth in rivers upon rivers of words and phrases. Fear pulsed in Mabill's eyes for a few brief moments before she slapped the offending hand away, watching the beads fall upon a freshly made grave, probably from one of her victims.

 _"Too late, Sixers. Deal's already been made."_

"What?" he asked breathlessly. "What could she possibly agree on-"

 _"Her brother's freedom. Come on,"_ Her eyes turned to Stan, who had for once in his life been stricken silent. _"Wouldn't you had made the same deal with me just to get your brother back? Thirty years was an excruciatingly long time, especially since_ you _were the reason he disappeared in the first place. You could have made a deal with me and cut that time by half, or even more! Sure, you'd be selling your soul, but wouldn't it all be worth it? So don't judge innocent little Shooting Star for following her heart. You humans have always been sentimental."_

Bill spoke through Mabel's body easily, never once breaking the smooth flow of words that, with dread, Stan could only think was the truth. Before he found the voice to respond, the cock of a gun could be heard. All eyes turned to Ford, who had pulled a gun from the holster and was now pointing it directly at Mabill. "I may not be able to exorcise you, but one shot through the head is enough to kill a human."

"Ford, no!" Stan yelled and grabbed his brother's arm, struggling for the gun as if it was his own life on the line. But it was far more than that. Mabel was one of the few that he had the pleasure of calling family, even more so than Ford himself. They shared laughs, they shared tears, they'd been through it all together. So with pure adrenaline force, he knocked Ford to the ground and opportunely kicked the gun well out of reach.

"Stan, you idiot! People are going to die!" Ford yelled out in frustration and panic, thrashing underneath the weight of his brother.

"I'm not letting you kill anyone, least of all Mabel!" All those years of wrestling his father had put him through had done him good, as he had Ford in a pin that was almost impossible to get out of, unless he had double the strength, which he didn't. Ford was never the brawniest of the brothers, although he was the brainiest. Brains couldn't get him out of this hold though.

"One of us is going to die here, Stan! Please! I know you love her- I love her too, but the entire human race in on the line! So please," but before he could finish, the firing of a shot was heard. He felt Stan slump down on top of him, which only caused his panic to increase tenfold.

Mabill lowered the gun, staring off silently before breaking out in hysterical laughter, right eye twitching uncontrollably. Her entire body shook, a lopsided smirk threatening to split her face in two broken pieces. Then her laughs gradually turned to helpless tears, voice cracking into pitiful sobs. She fell to her hands and knees and shoved her face into the dirt, too ashamed to show her face to the world, let alone before the people she loved.

When Ford felt Stan move from atop him, he turned his head and found McGucket's body lying in a pool of darkness, that of which he could only suspect was blood under the black sky. He raised his head, watching the blood moon darken to a rich red, blaring down at them. Laughter ran his blood cold, watching a silhouette take the shape of an isosceles triangle before the eerie sphere. Then it contorted, turning human and foreboding, hands stretching out as the moon bled into the sky like ink spilling on parchment paper. The sky went from pitch black to a dull red in a matter of seconds, casting a sickly glow on everyone.

Mabel raised her tear-stained face, ignoring the dirt and blades of grass that clung to her skin like leeches. And her skin had paled like leeches had sucked all the blood from her face. Though at this time and place, her appearance was the least of her worries; however, she did take to account how noticeably Bill's appearance had changed as he descended, hovering just over the ground. No longer was there a perfect mess of blond hair atop his head, as it had been replaced by charcoal-black curls that was shaggy and unorderly. His skin had gone from tan to an unnatural pitch black. Had the sky still been dark, he would be invisible to all. His outfit had lost all color but black, except for the collar that spiked into a deep red along with the lining of the tailcoat. But perhaps the most striking change was his one eye, once a bright yellow and now a scarlet red. He was truly a nightmare to behold.

Her breath caught in her throat at once when he turned his eye to her. _"Now, now, Shooting Star… You needn't be afraid. All that's changed is my looks. I can always change back if you so wish it,"_ as he spoke, a long tongue slithered out between the black points of his teeth, just as red as the world surrounding them. _"Forgive me. I haven't held up my end of the deal."_ He snapped his fingers, and just like that, Dipper lay unconscious at his feet.

She pulled her body towards her twin's in a weak and pitiful crawl. The sight of her brother brought newfound hope to her, even as he remained naïve in his slumber. He didn't know what she had done. She didn't want him to know. But still, she strained to have him at her side again. Before she could reach Dipper, however, Bill's face was in hers, red eye clashing against her green ones. _"Answer me this first."_

Mabel waited, her thudding heart betraying the stillness of her face.

 _"Was it worth it?"_


	6. Chapter 6

" _Was it worth it?"_

Inky blackness was crawling up the walls, consuming all that lay in its path. Not a spec of light illuminated the void, leaving Mabel Pines shrouded in darkness. She had no idea how she came to be in this place, but Bill's question was fresh in her mind, as it had only been moments ago. At least, that was how it felt to Mabel.

"Dipper?" she tested her voice, listening as the name echoed until it faded away with no response. She felt around on hands and knees before coming in contact with the wall, flinching as she touched it. For instead of the familiar cool surface of drywall, it was grimy and slick with who-knows-what. Nevertheless, she stood with one hand on the discomforting wall before she began her search for a way out. As much as she tried to block out the night's events, there was no escaping the darkness she had trapped herself in. Physically and metaphorically.

She'd killed people, one of those ten being McGucket. Sure, he had been the town loon, but he had also been a friend. If she didn't hate herself before, Mabel no doubt hated her guts now. She was a murderer to innocents, a traitor to friends and family, and a liar to herself. She tried swallow the guilt, but that only seemed to make the bile in her throat rise even further.

A shiver ran down her spine. To her horror, she realized that she was still in the ridiculous nightie Bill made her wear for the special occasion of the apocalypse. The thought made her feel light-headed and chilled to the bone. Despite that, feeling a draft wasn't all bad news, because that meant there had to be a way out somewhere close by.

"Dipper!" she called again, fat tears beginning to roll down her face. "Grunkle Stan! Anybody!"

She prepared for the worst – hearing Bill's high voice inside her head, but even he didn't answer. In a sick and twisted way, she was disappointed. Shaking the feeling away, she urged her feet onward, counting the minutes going by in her head. After what felt like an hour passed, she collapsed to her knees and began breathing heavily, from both languor and anxiety.

Pulling her hand away from the gooey wall, she settled herself on her side against the cold floor, briefly wondering if she had managed to get anywhere at all. A sequence of sniffles and hiccups escaped her trembling body, and so she cried herself to sleep within the confines of the darkness.

"-el?"

Somewhere in the fogginess of her muddled mind, Mabel was lost. She was far – far from civilization, far from consciousness, far from reality. All that was left was her dreams.

"-abel!"

But those dreams began fleeing for reasons unknown to her. Wait – Come back – What else was there for her if not the warm comfort of her dreams?

"… Mabel!"

Her vision reddened behind closed eyes. When she finally gained enough willpower to force them open, light flooded in from above and she had to squint in order to see properly. Where she hadn't expected to find herself was in a small, circular room that was very dungeon-like. The only difference was that there was no barred doorway, and its walls were covered in a black slime, which appeared to be inching its way upwards. Mabel strained her neck to see where it was going and where the light was pouring in from.

Obstructing her way out was a gated opening far above her head. But that didn't really bother Mabel now. Were her eyes deceiving her, or was that Dipper peering in?

"Mabel, are you okay?!" His voice was panicked – in a frenzy.

She opened her mouth, surprised that she found the words to speak. "Ye- Yeah, I think so…"

His head bobbed in a nod, relief flooding his shadowed face. "I'm going to get you out. This is an oubliette. The only way out is this grate here. You wouldn't happen to have your grappling hook on your person, would you?" The question came out in a laugh, but she could tell it was a trifle to try to make light of the situation.

"No…" she sighed, not finding it in her heart to make a witty comeback like she usually would.

Dipper's smile faltered. "I'll send a rope down," he called down as he pulled something out of his pocket. It glimmered against the little light there was, but Mabel recognized it instantly as the President's Key. "Knew this would come in handy." After he fumbled with the lock, Dipper struggled with pulling the iron grate out of its place. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was shocked at how much strength he managed to muster up. Maybe those lessons with the Manotaurs actually paid off.

When a thick rope of twine slithered down, Mabel stared dumbly at it for a moment. "Uh, Dip? You know we never had rope-climbing in gym class, right?"

"It's okay. I can probably pull you up. Just tie it around your waist and hold tight." She hoped that was certainty in his voice.

After tying the rope firmly around her, she tugged and prepared for the worst. Her breath hitched in anticipation when she actually started to move upwards. Though bravery had fled her, as her eyes closed shut tightly and her teeth ground together, she still found it easy to trust her brother. "I'm so sorry, Dipper…" she whimpered. "This is just like before with the rift. It's always my fault, isn't it?"

He must have heard her, because he grunted in response, "D-Don't say that. It's equally my fault. This time and last time. I should've told you about the rift and I should've told you about Cipher- well, the whole phone and internet block was a deterrent, but I should have driven here!" The last few words came out in a desperate gasp, and Mabel's heart skipped a beat when she felt herself drop an inch or two before he started pulling harder than before. The light was so close now.

It was time to change the subject.

"Ye- Yeah, driven here… and to see Pacifica too, am I right?" she tried to make small-talk, but she knew it came out forced and awkward. Still, she could imagine that Dipper was blushing from head to toe. Maybe it wasn't wise to make him all sweaty when he was holding the rope.

Even in the midst of the appropriately named 'Weirdmageddon' or the 'Oddpocalypse', Dipper's face flushed ten shades of red as expected. "Pa- Uh- Yeah- How- You- Know?"

"It's obvious," she laughed lightly and eagerly reached one hand up once she was within arm's length of her brother. He pulled her out of the hole, more than happy to get tackled to the floor in a hug. "It's really you, isn't it?" Mabel's voice broke mid-sentence as she latched onto her twin desperately.

"It's me," he assured and pat her back gently.

"A- And you were in a hole like this, right? An ou- oubliette? Like in Labyrinth?"

Dipper pulled back to look her in the eyes. He nodded and turned to rummage through his backpack. "I got out using this," he said as he pulled out a clunky gun-like contraption. "It's a magnet gun."

"Not as cool as a grappling hook," Mabel mumbled, earning a laugh out of her twin. She used the back of her hands to wipe away her oncoming tears. Whether they were out of sadness or happiness, she didn't really know.

Dipper smiled sadly as he watched her, then finally realized what she was wearing. Immediately he turned his eyes away and shrugged out of his coat that was similar to Ford's. His fashion had been inspiration to his great nephew just as his knowledge had. So he swung the beige coat around Mabel. "Looks good on you," he said, to which Mabel wrinkled her nose as she buttoned it closed.

They both stood at the same time, looking around the empty hallway silently. Contrary to the darkness that lie underneath them, the corridor was alight with blazing torches hanging on the walls. Judging by the grotesque hieroglyphs that were etched in the limestone walls, they could only guess that they were in Bill's domain.

"I think we're in the Fearamid," Dipper broke the silence with a groan.

"The what-a-what?"

"Remember the flying pyramid in the sky? That's what Cipher called it."

Mabel bit her lip at the memory, remembering how everything was always her fault. Time for a change of subject. "You used to call him Bill."

"I'd rather not be on a first-name basis with him…" he trailed off, his voice barely over a whisper as he turned his eyes down. The air suddenly became thick with tension. Mabel found it difficult to breathe.

She took his hand and offered a small smile. "We'll beat him. We always do, remember?"

For the first time since she had first encountered Bill in the beginning of summer, she felt hope in her words and she saw them reflected in Dipper's eyes. Actual hope.

And so they continued down the corridor, seemingly the only two there, since they didn't come across any more oubliettes in their walk. Mabel stopped only once to ask Dipper if he could read the hieroglyphs, but he only nodded his head and averted his eyes. She didn't pry further.

It seemed endless, like they were on a mission without a cause. Her calves began to ache until it was time to stop for a breather. As she leaned against the sanded wall with her hands on her knees, she took notice of how Dipper seemed to scan the wall beside her. "We're getting nowhere." He ran his hand over a large nick on the wall. "We've passed by this several times already."

"So it's a never-ending hallway…"

"Bingo."

They shared a look of annoyance before they both became enveloped in their own decisive thoughts. Dipper with a strategy on how to escape the hallway, Mabel with how to escape Bill's clutches. In the meanwhile, Dipper took on the oh-so-familiar task of chewing the cap of his pencil as he ran his eyes over the hieroglyphs. Mabel moved beside him, looking at the strange carvings as a crease formed between her furrowed brows.

Dipper's lips moved slightly as he silently translated the writings.

 _Cracks are hidden in the wall._

 _A shooting star may fall._

 _One eye watches all._

The ground at their feet started to rumble, and they both turned their eyes in unison, watching as the nick in the wall slowly cracked and crumbled downward. The tiled floor cracked between the twins and within an instant, Mabel felt the withered stone beneath her give way to the chasm that had formed in only mere moments. She found herself hanging on a jagged outcropping meters down from the surface. "Dipper!" His name came out as a desperate gasp.

His face appeared far above her and she watched in vain as he reached down. But she was too far, and the cropping was falling apart dangerously fast under her weight.

"Mabel, hold on!"

"I- I can't!"

Dipper was busy searching through his bag in a blind panic. Grasping the rope from earlier, he shouted, "Grab this!"

But before it could reach her, the rock crumbled to dust underneath her fingers. Dipper watched numbly as his sister fell into the abyss.

* * *

Mabel couldn't remember climbing into bed, but she knew she didn't want to leave. The warmth of the mattress against her back and the coolness of the sheets against her skin were too heavenly. Once she willed her eyes open, she took in the scenery with fresh bewilderment. She was indeed in bed, but it wasn't covered in stuffed animals or pillows in the shape of animals. Instead, it was a large canopy bed with four posts that held too many intricate details to take in at a glance. Covering her was a thick coverlet patterned with eyes that were identical to Bill's triangular form. The room itself was a crate of sorts, as in, there was no door to make for an escape. The only piece of furniture in the room was the bed.

With anxiety twisting in her heart, she slid out of the bed, careful not to make a sound. The demon was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't mean he couldn't see her.

She wished she hadn't been torn away from Dipper.

 _"Don't worry, Shooting Star. Pine Tree's safe and sound."_

Mabel's back went rigid, her shoulders raising in alarm at the voice. Without turning around to look at him, she spoke in curtly, "You got what you wanted. Now let everyone go."

 _"I don't think I want to."_ She could practically hear the grin in the response.

Obviously pleading wasn't going to get her anywhere, so she opted for another tactic. Getting the villain to talk always seemed to work in the movies. And Bill loved to hear the sound of his own voice. "So this is the second Armageddon you've started. But I thought you needed the rift to open the nightmare realm."

Her breathing hitched when his next response tickled the shell of her ear. _"There's more than one way to skin a cat."_

In a moment of fury, Mabel spun on her heels and moved to punch the offender, only to be caught by the wrist an inch away from his face. With a bit of easy magic, he had her frozen in that position, unable to move anything besides the muscles of her face.

Bill narrowed his eye and smirked down at the Pines twin as he took in her appearance. _"Star, I've got to be honest,"_ he purred as his gloved hand began toying with the top button of Dipper's coat. _"That wasn't my first kiss."_

The change of subject briefly confused her, but only before it began to perturb her. The tone of his voice, the look in his eye – she felt the coat pool at her feet.

 _"But it certainly was my favorite."_

What happened next was a blur of actions. Bill grasped Mabel by the shoulders and pulled her into a bruising kiss, so violent that she thought he was going to devour her whole. Then she once again felt the plush of a mattress under her back, now with the added weight of a demon atop her. Mabel found that he had released his magic from her, yet she didn't have the superhuman strength to stop the lustful assaults. He released her mouth and decided to take pleasure in piercing her shoulder with his fanged mouth.

This ripped a scream from deep within her. Blinded by the pain, she tried throwing him off, but to no avail. He only laughed airily against her skin, moving his hand to grasp her throat and effectively cutting off her air supply. The other traveled down her body, and she felt him hike up her nightie in the process. She choked and writhed beneath him, which only served to entice him further. When his hips ground against hers, inky dots began spotting her vision. She felt as light as a feather, and soon her writhing ceased to weak spasms as she sank further out of consciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

_"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."_

 _\- The Little Prince_

* * *

Gideon Gleeful was having trouble living up to his name recently. News had been swirling around his head like flies, but now they were in a swarm, and it was getting to be a more and more difficult time to swat them away. First the strange murders in Gravity Falls, then Dipper Pines confessing to said murders, then the apocalypse came out of nowhere. Yes, Gideon was far from gleeful.

He stared off at the shimmering lights of New York City, and while he usually felt grand and almighty in his penthouse on 400 Park Avenue South, the apocalypse turned out to be a real downer. Waves of nightmare fuel had only just past the Oregon borders and were spreading across the nation rapidly. Soon the world would submit to Bill Cipher.

With a heavy sigh, Gideon turned on his feet and walked to his wall-length mirror. He had changed a great deal since he had last been in Gravity Falls. Forgoing the tubs of ice cream, he had thinned out well and was now spending more time in the gym instead. He ran his hand over his chiseled face, lingering on the dark circles under his baby blue eyes. His normally swept back white hair was disheveled, dyed strands sticking out every which way. Although he'd made an adorable pudgy child, he found that the people he entertained with his shows were superficial, always favoring the handsomer band or movie star. Who was he to complain though? Those same superficial people were the reason he was able to live such a luxurious life.

He wasn't sure it would be a luxury anymore.

He had thought Bill Cipher was gone forever – wiped away from Stanley Pines' mind by means of the memory gun. Turned out the demon had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for just the right moment to strike. Yet while most people were wondering how the apocalypse started, Gideon had a very different question on his mind.

 _Where was Mabel Pines?_

* * *

When Mabel came to, she was alone. Given any other time and in any other circumstance, Mabel would have started getting restless and making calls to Candy or Grenda or already be smothering Waddles with love if she found herself alone. But now, she embraced loneliness. Her throat burned, her insides burned, and now her eyes burned as she fell into a fit of sobs. Her life had done a complete turnaround since her permanent move to Gravity Falls. Everything had been ahead of her, but now she had been manipulated into becoming Bill's personal puppet with all its strings cut, leaving her limp and useless. And now the puppeteer was out carving new puppets judging by the fact that he was nowhere to be seen. However, the cramped room that she had found herself in before had apparently transformed while she had passed out. While the bed took up the entirety of the back wall, walnut-wood bookshelves stuffed with tomes lined the walls both to the right and left. In the corners stood a grand piano and a menacing grandfather clock, fitting well with the dark décor. Adjacent from them and directly across from Mabel's spot on the bed was a fireplace alight with flames, and a horrifyingly realistic portrait of Bill as king served as the mantelpiece. His eye was trained ahead, sending shivers down her spine as she felt like it was watching her every movement.

As she sat up, the nightie that had been bunched up above the swell of her breasts fell back down, covering numerous bite marks and bruises that now adorned her skin. She was thankful that she had been unconscious for the majority of it. With a pang between her legs protesting as she got to her feet, she lifted Dipper's discarded coat and shrugged it back on, ignoring the hot tears that poured down her face and dripped onto the Persian carpet below.

Mabel began to shiver, and she was tempted to grab a blanket from behind her, but the speckles of blood staining the sheets served as an ugly reminder of what had been taken from her. Dragging her feet, she crossed the room and fell into the red armchair that faced the fire. Despite the heat now hitting her face, her body was still wracked with trembles. She wasn't cold – she was broken.

Now fighting against the sobs threatening to erupt from deep inside, Mabel tried picturing the past. But no matter what, Bill's ugly smirk managed to force its way into her mind. Desperate now, she made her way over to the shelves and began pulling book after book out. Books on runes and complicated equations that Mabel didn't care for. Where were the silly romance novels that she'd bury her nose into on a daily basis? The books that whisked her away into a world of witchcraft and wizardry? The books that dropped her into a dystopian society where girl meets boy and both manage to fall in love despite all the war and disaster destroying the world around them –

Finally she collapsed, burying her face in her hands as she choked on her sobs. She curled in on herself and rocked back and forth, imagining that she was wearing a comfortable sweater and not an itchy slip of a pathetic excuse for clothing. She tugged Dipper's coat tight against her, imagining her brother was holding her, along with Grunkle Stan and Ford, her parents, Candy, Grenda, anyone with two eyes and a heart of gold.

 _"I didn't think you'd be so easy to break."_

But she didn't hear him. She didn't even feel him when he gathered her into his arms. Next thing she knew, she was stripped down and enveloped in an overlay of steaming hot water in a bathtub. Then the oddest sensation came over her. Somehow, without the use of soap or sweetly-scented shampoo, her body felt scrubbed clean and her lengthy brown hair felt silky to the touch. Yet while this strange cleaning-magic confused her, nerves still bubbled up inside her. Not having the heart to cover herself and with the knowledge that he had seen it all already, Mabel refused to open her eyes, knowing that he'd be grinning from side to side.

With the tension in the air suffocating her, she decided to dig in deep inside her to retrieve what sliver of bravery was left. She slowly opened her eyes and tried in vain to hide her shock.

Bill was not smiling.

In fact, he wasn't even looking her way. He began speaking, but Mabel wasn't sure if it was directed at her or to himself. _"I've learned a great many things in our seven years apart. After I was erased from Stanley's brain, I found myself in a void – alone. It was worse than any realm I had ever had the displeasure of visiting. There was nothing. Just a blinding monochrome existence. Until… I was freed._ " His eye suddenly swiveled to her, staring into her scared eyes heatedly, and she found herself unable to look away. _"You never questioned my return, Shooting Star. In fact, I rather think you expected it."_

Tears welled in her eyes. A sob threatened to overtake her.

 _"You freed me. You took that statue's hand – that cracked, withered form of mine – and you wished me back. That was when the prophecy came true. That was when the shooting star fell. The things a foolish teenager would do for companionship. You gave me everything from that point onward, even if I didn't immediately make my presence known. I never had the ability to possess you fully until your last kill, but you were still my puppet. Your mind, your body, your soul… all mine."_

"Please stop," she whimpered, pulling her eyes away from him. His words were cold, cruel, ruthless, but also true. It had happened only a year ago, during one of her and Dipper's summer breaks in Gravity Falls. Uncle Ford had barged into the living room during one of their Summerween marathons, and he had been holding an envelope high in his hand, saying it had come straight from Piedmont. Their parents had gotten a letter in the mail from one of the many elite colleges Dipper had applied for, and it had been his acceptance letter. Mabel later learned that along with his acceptance letter came her apologetic letter. She'd been expecting it.

Yet the reality of the situation hadn't settled until that day when Dipper was jumping up and down in excitement with Ford. Grunkle Stan's hand on her shoulder had comforted her somewhat, but it hadn't been enough to satiate the sadness within. So in an effort to get things off her mind, she'd gone on a jog through the woods and come across Bill's statue, one hand outstretched – an offer too tempting to a saddened soul. Of course she knew Bill made bad deals, but she had still taken it, if only to have a laugh for old time's sake. She hadn't been serious, and when nothing happened, Mabel had brushed it off and continued on her jog. Despite the carefree attitude she had when she had taken his hand, she had still sent a curious glance over her shoulder for one last look at the withered stone.

She felt a hand on her exposed throat.

Mabel's eyes darted to him in alarm, watching as the leather glove fell from his teeth.

Only now was the expected smirk playing on his lips. He bent forward so his breath tickled against her ear. _"Why is human flesh so delectable?"_ His fingers tightened as he spoke, and the sensation brought forth memories from only hours before. _"Why do I have the urge to squeeze the life out of you?"_ Her vision was beginning to blur from a mix of tears and lack of oxygen. Still, he kept talking, his words keeping her from blacking out. _"Yet, I want to do more than kill you,"_ he purred and took her earlobe between his razor-sharp teeth. As he began to loosen his grip on the lithe brunette, she wrenched herself away. The motion caused his teeth to rip through her skin, drops of blood splattering against the unnatural water as she clambered up the side of the tub with her back to the wall.

Bill laughed and licked his lips. He drew his ungloved hand out to her and bent his index finger in a beckoning gesture. A nervous laugh had been making its way up her aching throat before a wave of calmness fell over her. Her eyes misted over as she eased herself back into the water.

Bill smiled down softly at her, bringing his hand to her forehead to brush her hair away from her blank face. _"Do you see how easy you are to control? Say 'yes, master'."_

"Yes, master," Mabel replied robotically.

 _"What a good puppet,"_ he said before he stood straight. She trained her eyes ahead, holding back a sigh of relief, thinking he was going to leave her be.

The faint, innocuous sound of fabric hitting the floor was enough to drive away all painfully hopeful thoughts. When she found herself able to move out of her own accord again, she sank lower into the water, seeking to hide. It dawned on her that she had never seen him naked.

The thought itself was enough to scrunch her eyes shut.

The water swished around the tub as Bill laid himself on top of Mabel's body, his thighs straddling her own. It was all too much, too _personal_. Even for Bill. He really did excel at making her uncomfortable. She dared a peek at him, keeping her eyes above the waist.

With a golden-toned body, the demon above her strikingly resembled an Egyptian god. Tattoos that seemed to writhe adorned his body, ancient symbols printed on his abdomen, chest, biceps, all the way up to his neck. His left eye was darker than usual, a smoky black as it bored into her, hooded with lust and power. Her soul was exposed to him – everything was his to see – his to take – his to drown.

She only registered that he had shoved her underwater when she felt the desperate urge to breathe. Bubbles floated up to the surface, but she couldn't thrash against him. This was his display of power.

His lips moved but his words were muffled.

Eyes, stinging.

Lungs, burning.

Vision, spotting.

There were no more bubbles to breathe out.

Only when she felt life drifting away did Bill dip below the surface, his face inches away from hers. Did he want to see the expression on her face more closely when she died?

Then she felt his lips against hers. And without a second thought, she kissed him back, greedily taking the air that he offered her. The relief and pleasure she felt were intoxicating. Even though she knew that death had to be the better option, Bill Cipher was her poison. He could touch her, kiss her, even mangle her – if that meant she had a chance at saving the people she loved. She wondered if they still loved her back. All the people she'd killed because of her inane deal with the devil…

Bile rose in her throat as they both surfaced for air.

The dream demon hummed in approval once his lips broke away from hers. To her horror, she now registered something hard pressing against her thigh. However, luck seemed to be granting her a favor for the first time today. _"As much as I'd love to continue, I'm afraid I need to see to some business. No rule saying I can't bring you along though, because I make the laws now!"_ he laughed a terribly high laugh as he snapped his fingers, bringing them out of the tub and clothing them. Bill sported his usual waistcoat, slacks, and top hat, while Mabel was dressed in a glittering black dress that fell at her mid-thigh and accompanied with fishnet tights. In all its oddity, the water seemed to have healed all bruises and even the cut in her ear had disappeared.

 _"Can't forget this, pet,"_ Bill said as he pulled a black velvet collar out of thin air. She stood still as he strapped it on, knowing it would be a fruitless task to fight him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

He snapped his fingers again, and next thing that she knew was that she was trapped inside a gilded cage alongside a familiar face.

"Mabel!" Dipper cried, relief and worry clouding his voice. He, too, was dressed similarly to her, minus the glitter dress and fishnets, but he was dressed predominately in black, including the collar at his throat. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she lied. As they hugged, Mabel took a good look at their surroundings. They were in a throne room similar to what had been in the Fearamid before, but it still held minuscule differences. Their silver cage was planted to the left-hand side of the throne, which was human-sized on a raise dais instead of a throne made solely of frozen humans. Bill was currently lounging in the air above the seat, a cruel smirk planted on his face as he watched the twins embrace.

The door at the far side of the room opened suddenly, directing all three occupants' attention. To both Dipper and Mabel's surprise, their uncles imperiously strode inside, armed to the teeth. Stan had his trademark brass knuckles, an axe slung over his shoulder, and a shotgun strapped to the other. Ford, it seemed, had taken to more technology-advanced weapons. He was strapped from head to toe with weapons such as his laser gun and quantum destabilizer. They hadn't come alone either. From behind them, faces of friends came into view. Soos and his fiancé Melody, Candy, Wendy and her redheaded family, Robbie and his cryptic parents, and even Pacifica stood behind them.

"Paz…" Dipper gasped, horror filling his face.

Bill's laugh echoed off the walls. _"Oh, this is rich! Guess I didn't need to go out and kill you off one by one. You were foolish enough to come to the slaughterhouse!"_

"This ends here, Cipher!" Ford shouted.

Stan's eyes fell on the caged twins. Worry darted over his face before pure hatred was redirected at Bill. "Let them go," he said lowly, his gruff tone borderlining on a growl.

The self-proclaimed ruler arched an elegant brow. _"What was that, Stanley?"_

"LET THEM GO, YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Bill threw his head back in laughter. _"I won't argue with you there about my mother, but no. Look at you idiots. You really think you can defeat me?"_

"We've done it once." Ford said surely.

The demon ignored him. _"You haven't even got the right people for the Zodiac. No memory gun either, thanks to my dear Shooting Star."_

Mabel turned her eyes down in horror. He was right. She had smashed it on her and Dipper's thirteenth birthday, figuring that they would never have any need for it again. She had never been more wrong in her life. And now she had murdered the inventor.

"That doesn't mean we can't immobilize you," Ford said, pointing the quantum destabilizer ahead before he pulled the trigger. What happened next was a blur of events. The laser hit its target, but Bill merely placed his hand on his chest and wore a coy smile. Next thing everyone knew, he had disappeared and reappeared in several places in the room in a successful attempt to duplicate himself. Yells and shouts rang out. Stan tossed Wendy the axe before swinging his armored hands at the closest Bill, but that had proved to be a decoy. Gunshots rang out, ricocheting against the walls. Mabel screamed as Dipper threw himself over her, and she could hear him shouting Pacifica's name.

Mabel couldn't see, but she desperately prayed to whoever might be listening that no one would die. She had already been the cause of so many deaths. No one else could die because of her. Her body became wracked with sobs as she clutched to her brother, trying in vain to block out the sound of battle.

Only when the shouting and grunting had turned into gasping and wheezing was when Dipper decided to let her go. Sitting up, Mabel covered her mouth at the sight before them. It was a mass array of blood and bruises. Everyone had sustained their own injuries. Candy was clutching at her arm, her pale skin spotted with blood. Robbie was a twitching mess on the dark marbled floor. Pacifica was staring at Dipper through her matted hair before her eyes turned a glare onto Mabel. She winced, knowing that it was rightly deserved.

The only person seemingly untouched was Bill. His copies had all disappeared – whether they were destroyed or he willed them away, Mabel didn't know.

" _Well, well, well. Looks like we're at a standstill. Except I'm clearly winning,_ " his chuckle reverberated menacingly around the massive room. _"However, I'll make you a deal."_

Grunkle Stan groaned as he leaned against Ford for support. It looked as if one of his shots had backfired on him, but he wasn't the type to give up easily, or at all for that matter.

" _I'll let you go,"_ he paused dramatically to relish in their bewildered expressions. _"You see, things get a bit too boring when you're a god. Just ask Time Baby. I have a game in mind – a fair game, mind you. Just an easy game of hide-and-seek. You hide and I seek. If I find you, I kill you."_

His laugh made everyone shudder this time around.

A pregnant silence fell over the group as Bill waited for their reply. Mabel watched the conflict spread across their faces. They had obviously been hoping for the best possible outcome, which would be winning the fight and ending the second Weirdmageddon as quickly as it had begun. It was never that easy though, was it?

"We'll do it," Ford said confidently.

Bill gave them a toothy smirk and waved them off. _"I'll start counting."_

But Stan wasn't ready to leave just yet. The pain in his voice was hidden well with anger. "What about the kids?!"

" _They'll join you soon,"_ he responded before he clapped his hands together twice. Just like that, the rebellion disappeared and a new game of cat and mouse began. Mabel watched nervously as Bill strode over to them, his eye going back and forth between the twins greedily. _"Now what to do in the meantime?"_


End file.
